


R6S

by DareTony



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-03 14:11:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14570712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DareTony/pseuds/DareTony
Summary: I have a collection of reader inserts for Siege, but I thought I might also make a place to post OC works.





	1. Spectre x Blitz

Cuts and bruises are sparsely scattered across the expanse of Blitz’s body, leaving him slightly sore, but mostly just exhausted. Maybe a little hungry too. Make that famished actually. Blitz feels like he could eat everything in his fridge and still not be satisfied. As he drags himself up the steps to his on base house all he can think about is how amazing it would be to drop into bed with some cake and his lover, Spectre, wrapped in his arms. Too bad he doesn’t have cake. Half of his fantasy being fulfilled is still better than not at all he supposes. Sighing, he opens the door and sets his shield down on the bench that rests beside the door, his aching muscles giving their own sigh of relief as the weight is gone.

“Sweetheart, are you home?” the German calls out into the house as he kicks off his shoes, his gear already having been removed before he started making his way home. There is no immediate response from the woman, so Blitz decides to venture further inside to seek out his lover.

Yet he only makes if a few steps past the doorway before a heavenly scent overwhelms his senses. He is pleasantly surprised by the sweet smell of something baking, or perhaps something having already been baked. It leaves his mouth watering, and Blitz is almost tempted to find the source of the smell before he finds Spectre. But he decides she is more important. It has been a few weeks since they have seen each other and he is eager to hold her again. 

“Oh right, sorry. I’m in the kitchen!” a beautifully feminine voice calls from within the house, a voice that Blitz has greatly missed over the last few weeks. Also, there is excitement bubbling in Blitz as he realizes that he will find his lover and the source of that delicious smell in the same exact room, at the same exact time.

Stepping up to the entryway that separates the kitchen from their hallway, Blitz sees Spectre in front of the sink as she works on washing dishes, her hips shaking in a happy little dance as she hums to herself. Grinning, he simply stands there, leaning against the wooden frame as he watches her for a while. She is so beautiful. Lavender hair gently caressing her shoulders, fair ivory skin looking so soft to the touch. Sometimes Blitz wonders how he got so lucky to have her. People sometimes find his humor a little annoying or even off putting, but Spectre not only understands and appreciates his humor, she also tends to share in it. Looking at her longer, admiring the lithe curves of her body, Blitz then realizes something oddly familiar about her outfit.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” Blitz asks with clear amusement in his voice as he breaks the silence, causing Spectre to turn around to face him with a quirky smile gracing her features.

“Perhaps I am, but how would you even know?” her tone is soft and teasing, playful even as she places a hand on her hip and cocks her head to the side. Nothing about her looks imposing at the moment. Blitz can’t help but be enthralled with how adorable she looks.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe because of the fact my name is written in bold black letters across the back. I guess I could be wrong though.” Together they share a laugh as Blitz moves across the floor to wrap Spectre up in his strong arms. She fits so perfectly against him, as if they were perfectly designed to be together. “Keep the shirt. It looks cuter on you anyways.” Blitz leans down ad places a firm yet gentle kiss to the top of her head as he gives her an extra tight squeeze, earning an adorable giggle from her in return.

Nuzzling her head against his chest, Spectre runs her fingers along the exposed muscles of his arms, noting each of his new scrapes and scars. It seems that each time either one of them returns home from a mission they are sporting new scars, some more serious than others. Yet she is glad to note than none of them look severe this time, and she feels herself relax. She is so happy that she found Blitz so that she has someone to share herself with. While other operators may find her annoying or even childish, Blitz happily laughs and plays along with her jokes and playful attitude. With the stress of their jobs, they both feel the need for humor to keep themselves from falling apart.

“Heh, like you could even get it back from me in the first place,” Spectre eventually laughs after a few moments of silence, where they simply hold each other. “I could easily make it so you could never find this shirt again.” Then she takes her turn to place a kiss against him, right along the bottom of his jaw, making his smile soft and warm.

“I’m sure you could, although I would hope you wouldn’t,” Blitz takes the time to raise his head, carefully scanning the counters in search of whatever smell had drawn him in earlier. Now that he has been reunited with Spectre, he can no longer ignore the rumbling of his stomach. “Also, you have to tell me before it drives me crazy. What is that delicious smell overwhelming my senses? I am simply starving,” to further punctuate the point, his stomach decides to growl at that specific moment.

“Oh yes, I almost forgot!”

Spectre extracts herself from his thick, muscular arms, placing another kiss to his cheek before she turns around and skips over to the counter. There is a large, circular plate with a plastic covering over it. Anticipation races through Blitz as his eyes eagerly await for her to reveal whatever delicious treasures she has hidden from him. Inch by slow inch, Spectre lifts the cover and sets it aside, turning to allow him to gaze at his treat.

“Well since you are so sweet, I decided to make you some sweets!” she grins and points to the plate. “It is your favorite, Black Forest cake!” The German’s eyes go wide as saucers, jaw dropping open as drool nearly begins to dribble down his chin.

“You are the best girlfriend a man could ever ask for. Please never change,” his eyes are still zeroed in on the cake as he approaches, hands eagerly grabbing at the air in anticipation. Spectre is still laughing at him as she begins to cut out a piece of cake for him, deciding she will wait until later to have some.

“I’m beginning to think that you might love cake more than you do me, Elias,” she says as she places the plate and a fork into his hands, all while giving him a cheeky grin.

Blitz opens his mouth to speak, but then decides to take a quick bite of his cake first, giving a wink that causes Spectre to snort with laughter.

“Me, no, never,” he says once he has finished chewing, mock offense in his tone as he places his free hand against his chest. “But I do really love cake.” He takes another bite, nearly moaning in pleasure as he does so. “Mmmm it is so delicious. You must be a goddess of making cake. But you know what would make this cake even better?” Spectre is silent as she waits for his answer, and Blitz gives a little grin. “Eating this cake in bed.”

Giving an amused laugh, Spectre sighs and gives a short nod. Sometimes she wonders which one of them is more childish, and usually she thinks that title belongs to Blitz. Yet she can’t argue with him. Cake does sound more appealing when you can eat it in the comfort of your own bed, especially when you can also cuddle with somebody at the same time. Maybe he is onto something here.

“Alright, but you have to clean up the crumbs you leave afterwards,” Spectre warns. “I’m not sleeping in a bed covered in cake.” Blitz gives a soft cheer in return, nodding his head in understanding as he moves closer to her.

Without saying anything, Blitz hands the plate of cake and fork over to Spectre, who gives him a curious and questioning look. But she takes the plate without complaints or arguments. Then Blitz is swiftly and abruptly lifting her up into his strong burly arms as if she were his bride. It makes her let out a soft squeal of surprise that makes Blitz chuckle, obviously hoping for that kind of response. Then he proceeds to carry her out of the kitchen, down the hallway into their bedroom. It is a relatively large bedroom, considering how small the quarters are in the base where they used to stay. Before they had this house, back when they still used to sneak into each others bunks.

Stepping through the door, Blitz slightly adjusts Spectre in his arms so the he is only holding her up with one arm as he approaches the end of the bed. Once his knees brush against the edge, he delicately takes the plate back from his lover. Blitz then proceeds to give her a soft wink and smile before promptly tossing her onto the bed. She lets out a shriek, clearly in amusement as well as shock as she bounces a few times on the mattress before settling against their blankets.

“Hey, that wasn’t very nice,” Spectre chides him in a faux stern voice, glaring at him with a fake pout on her lips. Blitz is still tenderly holding his cake as he shuffles into the bed beside her, leaning back against the headboard so it can rest on his chest.

“Shh I’ll make it up to you once I’ve finished my cake. Promise,” he is speaking between bites of cake, but it really doesn’t bother her. As much as her German lover may be able to annoy her sometimes, she would still never change a single thing about him.

Scooting closer, Spectre nestles up to Blitz’s left side and rests her head against the lower part of his chest, arm snaking across his waist to hold him close. At this point, she is simply happy that he is home in one piece, knowing one day one of them may not be so lucky. So she nuzzles further against him, to make every moment last and count in case it is their last time together. Although after a few moments of silent cuddling, after Blitz has devoured at least half of the large slice of cake, Spectre shifts. Leaning up, she places a sweet and tender kiss against his soft lips. It surprises him at first, but also pleases him as he leans forward to deepen the kiss until she eases back away from him.

“Mmm tastes like chocolate and cherries,” Spectre smiles as she licks her lips, making Blitz blink dumbly at her for a moment before there is a soft glint in his eyes.

“Oh really, perhaps you should try again. Get a better taste,” Blitz drops his fork onto the plate, using his now free hand to wrap around the back of her neck to pull her closer once again.

While still kissing, Blitz carefully moves the plate from his body to rest on the nightstand beside him, then pulls Spectre up into his lap. Her thighs rest on either side of his as he wraps his arms tightly around her, locking her agaisnt his chest as they continue kissing passionately. It definitely still tastes like chocolate and sour cherries, but combined with each of their own unique flavors.

“Yeah, I definitely love you more than cake, Quinn,” Blitz says with a soft sigh and smile as they pull back for air, pressing their foreheads together so they can gaze into each others eyes. “You are so beautiful and amazing. This cake is nothing compared to you.” Smiling, she presses another kiss to his cheek and rests her head against his shoulder.


	2. Spectre x Blitz

There is a strange and moderately uncomfortable mugginess to the usual cool and refreshing night air. Something doesn’t seem right. Spectre isn’t on a mission, yet she sits in a small house that is designated as one of Rainbow Six’s many safe zones. It just so happens that it is also relatively close to a warehouse one of their teams is currently trying to clear of terrorist activity. Blitz is part of the team assaulting the building, so Spectre offered to wait at the safe house and possibly provide back up if called upon. Doc was there with her at one point, but ultimately he decided to approach the target location. Somebody was bound to require his assistance at some point.

In the distance, Spectre hears the oh so familiar sound of an explosion, which really is no surprise. But it makes the ball of stress and discomfort knot further in Spectre’s gut. Even more unsettling is that a few minutes after the explosion she hears the sound of fast and heavy footsteps coming up the gravel driveway to the safe house. Unsure if it one of her own, or one of the enemies, she pulls out a pistol and moves over to peek through the front window. What she sees causes her to drop the pistol to the floor with a gasp. Then she is rushing to the front door and flinging it open as fast as she can.

“Oh my God, what happened?”

In the distance, Spectre can see the flames and smoke rising from where the warehouse once perfectly resided. SAS operator Toxin stands at the bottom of the porch looking far worse for wear. There is a large crack in the clear plastic of her gas mask, nearly splitting it clean in two. Blood is dripping down one side of her head in a thin river, disappearing into the collar of her gear. Worst of all might be the scorch marks all along her body and gear. Yet the more concerning is the much larger frame of a body barely being held up and supported in Toxin’s arms. 

A very familiar shield is strapped to Toxin’s back. One that happens to belong to Spectre’s favorite German. Blitz is cradled in the arms of the British woman, eyes closed tight and blood dripping from his torso to the ground.

“Come on, I need to get him inside,” Toxin’s voice is strained, laced with pain as her muscles protest her struggling up the steps. “I’m gonna put him on the floor, get some blankets.”

While she lowers him to the ground as gentle as possible, trying her best not to further jostle him, it still pulls a pained gasp from him. His shield is dropped onto the floor and quickly forgotten. Blitz gives a wheeze as Spectre drops to the ground beside him, as she sets a stack of folded blankets beside Toxin. Methodical hands are swift and efficiently pushing a few of the blankets beneath his head to keep it propped up while using the others the wrap around his legs and waist. It is important to keep him warm. So much blood has pooled along Blitz’s abdomen, the off white fabric of his sweatshirt stained red. It is that moment when she realizes that he isn’t wearing his vest anymore. Toxin already bandaged the wound, but it likely won’t be enough seeing how much blood has already soaked through the bandages.

“Put yer hand here and press down hard. Don’t worry about it makin’ him uncomfortable,” Toxin grabs one of Spectre’s hands, forcing her to press firmly against a particular spot along his abdomen. Blitz groans in discomfort, but it may be the only thing that keeps him from bleeding out on the floor. 

“So what happened in there?” Spectre asks as she gazes down at her lover, longing to caress his face, but needing to keep her hands against his wound. The way his eyes are closed, she finds it hard to tell if he is awake and conscious, or if he is simply just reacting to the pain.

Toxin is busy pulling off her gloves and searching through the different radios that they keep stocked in the house. Grabbing one, she sets the matching one on the floor beside Spectre.

“Blitz took a knife to the gut. He got distracted trying to come after me,” her voice is little more than a dull hum, and undertone of what is perhaps guilt filtering in. Toxin busies herself with shouldering off the upper portion of her gear, leaving her in nothing but her undershirt. Several spots along her arms and shoulders are discolored from the material of her suit burning against her flesh. “I had to take off his vest so he could breathe.”

Spectre bites her lip, “Was the mission successful at least?” She tries to keep her voice calm and collected, but tears are threatening to fall the longer she watches Blitz resting against the floor. Maybe she should have been there. Maybe she could have done something.

Turning back to watch the couple on the ground, Toxin gives a sad smile. She knows the pain of seeing a lover is such a weak state. It isn’t something she would wish upon anyone.

“It was successful. But that explosion you no doubt heard took out some of the main supports in the building. It started to come down around us, so I did whatever was necessary to get Blitz out of there,” the Brit gives them one last fleeting glance as she pulls the cracked mask off her face, letting it drop to the floor. “Stay here with him and keep pressure on the wound. I’m going to find Doc and bring him back.” Her voice is very sharp and to the point. She won’t stand to let one of her teammates die.

All Spectre can do is give a vague nod, afraid that if she tries to speak again her control will falter and the tears will fall. For a while, she watches Toxin’s retreating form until she is no longer in sight. Then she is suddenly very much alone with the bleeding German lying on the wooden floor. She wants to remove his helmet, knowing it probably isn’t the most comfortable. But she doesn’t have a free hand to do so, and she worries it may do more harm than good. Groaning, Blitz ever so slightly shifts, leaning slightly into his lover’s body.

“Come on, stay with me big guy,” Spectre coos softly, trying to keep herself happy and cheerful. Blitz shouldn’t have to hear the way she is so close to breaking from her normal happy go lucky mood. “It isn’t meant to be the end for us. There is just so much we haven’t done yet. It isn’t fair.” 

A single tear rolls down one of her cheeks, that is rapidly followed by several more until she is silently sobbing. It takes a great deal of strength and control to keep her body from shaking with the force of her tears, refusing to let Blitz be jostled around because of her.

“Hey, you don’t need to be crying over little old me,” Spectre suddenly hears a very thick accented voice croak out from below her. Glancing down through her tears, she sees Blitz staring right back up at her. She opens her mouth to say something, lips still trembling, but Blitz cuts her off. “Please, don’t say that you should have been there, that you could have save me, or that you could have protected me. There is nothing that you could have done, and I felt much better knowing you were here. That you were safe.”

Every few words he has to pause to catch his breath once again, until eventually he pauses long enough to slip off his helmet and balaclava. Once free of it, he pushes it aside and lets his head drop back against the blankets serving as his pillow.

“It was a madhouse in there,” he continues to explain after a moment, eyes looking far off for a brief moment. “I don’t know where everyone else was, but I saw Toxin get surrounded. At first I didn’t think she could handle it on her own, so I tried to go over and help. By the time I realized somebody was coming up behind me, it was almost too late. Before I knew it, there was a knife buried in my waist. Anyways, I’m sorry for putting you through this. You don’t deserve it.”

“Shh, it’s okay sweetheart,” Spectre soothes, leaning to place a feather light kiss to his hairline. A few strands of his beautiful light brown hair sticks to his forehead, slightly damp with his own sweat. “Just relax, Toxin is going to bring Doc back real soon. He will fix you up. You’re going to be fine.” 

It gets to the point that Blitz is quivering, a thin layer of sweat across his faintly paling skin. That isn’t a good sign. Spectre doesn’t want to say anything, worried if she even so much as whispers her concerns that Blitz may suddenly take a turn for the worse. With his life on the line, she doesn’t want to jinx anything.

“Turns out Toxin didn’t even need my help,” Blitz coughs out a chuckle after a moment, breaking the silence once again. “The woman sure can hold her own. I’m still surprised she carried me all this way,” his voice is fading, and his accent is so thick that his words are almost intelligible.

Watching him closely, she sees as his eyes start to close again. Yet this time it seems like he is on the verge of passing out rather than just giving his eyes a rest. If he falls asleep, Spectre fears that he may never wake up.

“No no no, Elias,” Spectre is shouting, crying thick rivers as she fights to keep him awake. “You need to stay awake! You have to stay with me!” It is a losing battle. Those beautiful eyes slide closed and don’t open again. All Spectre can do is cry, hands still pressed harshly against his wound, hoping that there is still time to save him.

Several days later Blitz rests peacefully in an infirmary bed at the Rainbow Six hospital, Spectre happily sitting on the edge of the mattress with her legs dangling off the side. Aside from a few stitches, the German is relatively unscarred by the mission. Toxin and Doc had burst into the safe house mere seconds after he passed out, just in time to save his life. A few blood transfusions later, after the knife wound had been properly sutured and bandaged, and the German was all good. Yet Doc, being as cautious with people’s well being as always, insisted the Blitz stay in the hospital at least for a few days. Much to the disappointment of Blitz. Doc knew the younger man would likely do something to rip his stitches if left without supervision. 

“Oh come on, I think I can have something other than this horrendous hospital jello,” Blitz groans as Spectre tries to spoon feed him more of the jiggling green substance. At first he had enjoy the sugary confection, but after eating nearly nothing else the last few days, he wants something different.

“Sorry, doctor’s orders,” Spectre giggles, forcing the spoon into his mouth when she catches it open. Blitz sends her a dirty look that lacks any real fire, but he chews and swallows anyways. “You should just be happy that Toxin and Doc made it back to us time. Really, you had me worried.”

Blitz gives one of his signature smiles, the kind that is just so warm and welcoming that it gives you a fuzzy feeling inside. He reaches out to grab his lover’s hand, admiring how small and delicate it looks within his own. Pulling it closer, he presses a firm kiss to her knuckles, then flips it over to place several lighter kisses along her palm.

“I’m sorry for scaring you like that,” he looks up at her with adorable puppy dog eyes. She knows that he is trying to play in order to get something better to eat. It is working though. “I promise to try and avoid doing so ever again. Although, I may be even more inclined to avoid anything dangerous if I was to have some delicious ice cream right now.”

Laughing, Spectre nods her head. How could she resist? He is just too darn cute for his own good, and he looks so sad being confined to the infirmary for so long.

“Alright, fine,” she gives in with a smile, leaning to place a kiss on his cheek when he grins at his victory. “I’ll sneak you in some ice cream, but if Doc sees it you are taking the blame.”

“Deal.”

They lean close together to share a deep and passionate kiss, one that conveys all their true feelings for each other. While both of them manage to seem so happy and cheerful, both are still a little shaken by the little scare. Yet they will get through it together, as they always do. According to Blitz, ice cream will also be the best thing to help.


	3. Mute x Acoustic

Watching the little hand on the clock slowly come full circle time and time again is all the Mute can do to keep his mind from wandering to less desirable thoughts. It has been two hours, thirty three minutes, and twenty six seconds since he received the news Acoustic was injured on her mission. Thatcher was the one to call, telling him that she was being transported to the hospital by the Hereford base, but that nobody knew the details of her condition. Of course, Mute dropped all his tools to rush to be at her side, only to be forced to sit in the waiting room until she was declared well enough for visitors.

While Mute may find Acoustic annoying with her general goofy nature and her tendency to pester him non-stop, he still holds a special place in his heart for the FBI agent. As much as he loathes to admit it to anyone, sometimes even to Acoustic, Mute does love her. He doesn’t want to think about what will happen if her injuries are severe, about if she doesn’t make it. She is going to be fine, at least that is what he keeps telling himself the longer he watches the clock.

“Mr. Chandar?” Mute’s head instantly snaps up to see a middle aged woman in a pair of blue scrubs walk into the room and scan across the sea of faces. Getting to his feet, he approaches her with eyes full of a million questions, but he keeps his mouth shut. “You are Mr. Chandar, I assume,” he gives a brief nod. “Miss Pryor can take visitors now, but she may not be awake yet.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” unintentionally, Mute is a bit curt with his words as the nurse gives him the number of Acoustic’s room. Though, he gives her an apologetic look before briskly making his way further into the hospital.

As he steps up to the door that separates him from Acoustic, Mute suddenly feels a flash of anxiety rush through him. All the what ifs start going through his mind. Maybe she is just a mangled mess of blood and bandages. Does he really want to see her like that? Mute takes a deep breath. No matter the extent of Acoustic’s injuries, he needs to be there with her. She would be there for him in the reverse situation, whether he wanted her to be or not.

Pushing open the door, Mute is greeted by only the steady beat of the heart monitor at the bedside. Acoustic rests on the bed under a few layers of blankets with her eyes closed and a soft expression on her face. There are a few small cuts littering across her face, though it doesn’t seem that she has any major injuries aside from a cast around her left arm. But he could be wrong. There is no telling what wounds lie beneath the cover of the blankets. All Mute can do is hope for the best as he pulls a chair up to the right side of the bed, dropping into it as if the entire world is weighing down upon him.

“Come on, what did ya do this time?” he lets out a sigh as he leans forward and lowers his head into his hands. “Don’t do this to me, Dana. I know I may act like I can’t stand ya sometimes, but I don’t think I could stand it if you weren’t here either.”

Mute lifts his head to watch her as he reaches out to take her unbandaged hand into both of his own calloused ones. It isn’t often that he is one to talk about his feelings. Usually he prefers his actions to speak louder than his words. But in the moment, he can’t help but feel the need to pour out all his feelings. He feels he has to set everything out on the table. Because what if this is the end? What if Acoustic isn’t going to make it? Maybe Acoustic can’t even hear his words, but he would damn well feel awful if he never says them in the time they have together.

“You can’t leave me. I need ya here,” Mute looks down at his lap as he frowns, lightly squeezing her hand. Somehow, in his distressed state, he doesn’t notice that she also gives a gentle squeeze back. “Even after everything you do to annoy me, I don’t want you to go. Ya have to stay. I love you, Dana,” it isn’t often that he says it aloud, and it makes it all the sweeter for her to hear him say.

“Aw, I love you too Mark,” Acoustic purrs as she finally gives up her act of pretending to be asleep. It was her plan all along to try and get a confession out of him about his feelings. Upon hearing her voice, Mute’s head instantly snaps up to stare at her. The surprised look of embarrassment in those eyes is almost beyond comical. “I always knew you enjoyed all our lovely conversations just as much as I do.”

Acoustic giggles at him, sitting up in her bed as he begins to frown. How had he not realized she was pretending to be asleep? Really, he doesn’t mind that she has heard. The point was to make sure he said it in case she wouldn’t survive. But he has to keep up his appearances, lest she think he has suddenly become a big softie. God knows that would only encourage her to double her efforts to shower him in excessive affection.

“Oh don’t give me that pouty look just because I caught you actually showing some affection for once.”

The glee in her voice combined with that teasing smile on her face makes his frown deepen. Back to acting cool.

“Don’t smile. I’m mad at you,” forcing his expression back to neutral, Mute leans back into his seat and crosses his arms across his chest with a grunt. It does nothing to disprove that he was actually worried about her though. He can go back to his usual gruff demeanor, but Acoustic knows better.

“I thought we were having a moment here,” Acoustic smiles, leaning closer to rest a hand on his knee. His eyes flicker down to her hand before he looks back up to meet her eyes.

“Moment’s over. Shut up,” despite the harsh words, the smallest of smiles begins to spread across his face again. Might as well enjoy the moment while he has it.

Acoustic just grins back at him, leaning even further forward so that she can place a kiss against his cheek. She doesn’t comment on how it makes his smile grow even wider, or how he leans into the touch. It is rare for him to be so open to her affections when not in the solitude of their quarters. As she pulls back, Mute uncrosses his arms and moves to rest his elbows on the edge of her bed.

“How are ya feeling though? Is it anything bad?” once again he takes the time to look her up and down in attempt to assess her condition. But it doesn’t tell him more than he already knows.

“I’m good for now. It really isn’t that bad,” she sighs as she reaches out to hold one of his hands. “Sorry to scare you. My left arm is broken and I have a few lacerations along my legs and abdomen, but nothing a bit of rest won’t heal. They are sending me back home to recover.”

“I am just glad that you are alright.” 

Mute is the one that leans forward and presses their lips together, one hand burying itself into the shorter side of her soft brown hair. While he makes sure that he doesn’t hurt her, he doesn’t hold back from the kiss. He puts everything into it. As they part lips, both of them are out of breath, but he keeps his hand on the side of her head.

“If you would allow it, I would love to go with you,” he speaks softly between breaths, fingers beginning to thread through her hair. “I want to be able to take care of you. Just…after a scare like this I don’t want to have to wait however many months before I can see you again. It’s about time I used up that vacation time anyways. I wouldn’t mind if you were to show me around where you are from.”

“Of course!” Mute isn’t sure how it is even possible, but Acoustic’s smile grows even wider as she leans her head into his hand. “I would love to have you there with me Mark. It gets lonely sometimes when I’m not going on missions.”

Giving Acoustic another fond smile, he leans back in to give her another soft peck on the lips before resting their foreheads together. Sometimes he feels bad that he doesn’t always give her the affection that she deserves. But as long as she knows that he does care, that is what is important.


End file.
